Just a Gear in the Machine
by Crazy but Happy
Summary: Elizabeth Cavrin is a Latin History Professor who knows more than she lets on. But instead of teaching a class, Cyrus Kriticos puts her to a different sort of work: making her construct the portal to all the information in creation. But after he locks Liz in the 'home' of the machine, she befriends some unlikely spirits in order to defeat her greatest enemy, loneliness.
1. Prologue

Hello Everyone, my name is Crazy but Happy, but you may all call me Callie. This is my fourth serious fanfiction; third that I've published here.

I've been really getting into the movie Thir13en Ghosts, and I have a moment of writing clarity, so I am going to enjoy this quite a lot!

Im just starting with a little background info, and the first chapter will be up really soon!

Enjoy!

- Callie (Crazy but Happy)

* * *

-5 Months Ago-

It was late; already 10:30 if I remembered correctly. An owl hooted outside the window of my office, and I leaned back and sighed. Why did I have to assign an essay on the first week of my Latin history class? It was taking _way _too long to go over all of them.

As I took a swig out of my iced tea bottle, I heard a knock on my door.

'I could have sworn all of the administration went home by now.' I frowned, wondering how this anyone could get into the building without a key. I opened a drawer in my desk, and took out a small switchblade I had for protection and gripped it in my fist that was in my lap.

"Come in." I said, trying to hide the slight nervousness in that was rising in my throat.

The heavy oak door slowly opened, and I heard a cane click on the floor, followed by a man with graying black hair, and a neatly trimmed beard. An air of mystery and intimidation lingered around the man. I swallowed my fear and smiled pleasantly.

"Good evening sir, how may I help you?" Being in the line of work I was in, I was quite accustomed to speaking with older, sophisticated men, so I wasn't really nervous about that; but something about this man didn't sit right with me.

"Good evening Professor Elizabeth Cavrin, my name is Cyrus Kriticos, and I am in need of your service." I looked at him with a faintly questioning expression,

"Whatever would you need my help for, Mr. Kriticos?" The man reached into his black leather briefcase and pulled out a large hard-covered book. I recognized it instantly, and let out a small gasp.

"Is that…." He smiled and finished my sentence,

"The Arcanum by the astrologer Basileus? Why yes, it is." I looked up at him, and there was an evil glint in his eyes.

"Why...do you need me?" Cyrus stepped up to my desk and opened the book to a page that showed a diagram of an incredibly intricate machine.

"I've heard that you know about this machine, and how to create it." I clenched and unclenched my jaw in anxiety,

"I might have…dabbled in my years abroad…" He chuckled darkly,

"As far as I've heard, it's a bit more than 'just dabbling'." A scowl rose to my lips, and I spoke with a sharp tone,

"I'm sorry, Mr. Kriticos, but I refuse to help you with such a project." With that comment, Cyrus' smile disappeared. He quickly marched around my desk, showing me that that cane was just for show, and slapped me across the face. I tried to scream, but he grabbed hold of my neck, blocking off my supply of air.

"Ms. Cavrin, I was hoping to get your help by free will, because I could have paid you quite the handsome fee. But conflict is one thing I am _not _going to allow." I tried to open my knife, but once he heard the click of the blade, he grabbed tightly onto my wrist, making me drop my only form of protection.

He growled and pulled my face close to his, and spoke with venom lacing his words,

"You _will _assist me in my project. If you behave and do everything I say," His voice lowered to a harsh whisper,

"_I will let you keep your life."_

My eyes widened in terror, and the grip around my neck told me that he was completely serious.

"Do I make myself clear?" He asked. I nodded, closing my eyes and staying silent. I knew what I was getting into, and I didn't like it.


	2. Chapter 1: Lockdown

Hello everyone ^_^ Here's chapter one to my Thir13en Ghosts fanfiction!

I'm actually excited to write all of this, because I've had a horrible writer's block lately, and this is a wonderful moment of clarity!

Thank you so much to greeneyedAlice91 for the first review of the series! I greatly appreciate it, and reviews are a big part of my persistance in writing a story.

Thank you to all who reads this, and Cheers!

Only Elizabeth Cavrin belongs to me.

- Callie (Crazy but Happy)

* * *

"Place cube 23D-N in the north-western quadrant! 3Q-F goes to the left of that and three grids down!" Cyrus yelled out orders at the various architects and builders carrying heavy pieces of glass and metal. As the ruckus of construction played out around me, I sat on a chair in the middle of the "entry way" and flipped through photo-copies of pages from the Arcanum that Cyrus had supplied me with. Well, he obviously wouldn't just leave the book with me.

I looked up from the pages, and glanced around the room. It was amazing how such a terrible machine could be disguised as such a beautiful home. Though I pitied whoever ended up living here.

There was a loud noise, and I motioned a construction worker to come over to me.

"Um, excuse me? What was that large bang?" The worker looked at the direction the noise came from,

"Oh, that was just them putting in the last piece of the outside of the house." I thanked him, and he went back to his business; and I went back to my papers.

Pictures of the black zodiac looked at me from the aged pages, and I felt as if the ink drawings could stare into my heart, poking and prodding, trying to unearth my fears.

As I went through them, I said to myself the names of the ones we had already imprisoned.

"Okay, number one, The First Born Son,"

Turn the page,

"Two, The Torso" I made a slight grimace and chuckled, "Poor guy…"

Turn the page,

"Three, The Bound Woman…"

Turn the page,

"Four, The Withered Lover…" A pain in my heart pulsed; she seemed so…out of place from the others.

Turn the page,

"Five and six, The Torn Prince and The Angry Princess," I don't care if she was a ghost, that girl was still gorgeous.

Turn the page,

"Seven, The Pilgrimess,"

Turn the page,

"Eight and nine…I don't even really want to acknowledge those two…"

Turn the page,

"Ten, The Hammer…" A shiver went down my spine, "God that guys scared the shit out of me…well, _scares_…"

I turned the page to the latest in Cyrus' collection,

"The Jackal…"I read about him earlier; his name was Ryan Kuhn, if I remembered correctly. He was a murderer and rapist from England, and he died around 19...16? 1917? I'm not very sure..

Everyone told me to stay as far away from him as possible because he was, as a worker said, 'Crazy as fuck'. I don't doubt that he's dangerous, but I read that he admitted _himself _to the asylum he died in because he wanted to get help for his problem. Anyone who can acknowledge the fact that they are insane can't be well…_as insane_ as people let on; and I put that very loosely. That's how I see it at least. When I told someone about what I thought, though, they just laughed in my face.

I must actually be crazy myself, because once when there weren't that many people here, I tried to go and talk to him, just trying to find proof for my theory about his level of insanity. But right when I stepped close the glass of his containment cube, he tried attacking me, and ended up just running into the glass barrier. Then he growled and screamed at me like a wild animal. It goes without saying that it was terrifying, but something inside of me…couldn't help but feel bad for him.

As I was reading, the different doors and glass walls shifted and moved as the workers tested out the main gears of the house. They've been doing this since they built the foundation, so I was used to it, but one thing moved that never had before: the front door. They _never _closed it because people always moved in and out with materials and different furnishing.

I slowly stood up and walked to it with a confused expression, and waited for someone to walk by. After a few minutes, my least favorite person walked up to the door from the outside. He pressed a button to connect his headset with his.

"Cyrus, why is this door closed? It's never been closed before." He had a mocking smile on his face, and chuckled,

"Well, since the majority of my…home is finished, and since there is no other exit besides this one, I decided it would be a perfect place to keep you so that you won't scamper away while I am gone." My jaw dropped a little, and I looked at him with disbelief.

"You're locking me in?! Why! I won't run away, and even if I did, you'd still find me one way or another." I hit my fist against the glass, but Cyrus didn't flinch at all.

"Ms. Cavrin, I can't let you escape first of all, and having to find you would be a chore. I don't feel like dealing with it." Panic was starting to set in,

"No! Cyrus, let me out! Don't just leave me here! What will I eat? Where will I sleep?" He rolled his eyes,

"Oh Elizabeth, don't be so dramatic. All of the amenities are functional; the bathrooms, the kitchen, and the rooms are fully furnished." He turned and started walking away,

"You should feel lucky; think of it as a…working vacation!" I hit my fist against the glass again,

"When will you be back?" Cyrus stopped and looked back at me,

"I have some business to attend to, so around…two weeks. But then that will give you plenty of time and solitude for you to work on _my _machine. All of the pieces are in the basement, I recommend that you start immediately." And with that, he entered his old vehicle and drove out of sight.


	3. Chapter 2: First Night

Hello Everyone! I have finally finished my second chapter of Just a Gear in the Machine! School has been pretty busy, and has been taking up most of my time, so that's why it's taking just a little longer to write lately.

Thank you all for the follows and reviews!

GreeneyedAlice91 I greatly appreciate your reviews and support! Thank you so much!

Thanks everyone, and I hope you enjoy my second chapter in the series!

- Callie (Crazy but Happy)

I only own Elizabeth Cavrin.

* * *

After Cyrus drove away, I turned towards the room and sunk down against the wall.

I was…alone…stuck here…alone…with no disturbances…alone…in a luxury house…_alone…_

A tingling sensation grew in my stomach; I stood up, brushed the possible dirt off of my clothing. Of course there was none though, since this place was nearly spotless.

I couldn't be…excited that I was alone here, could I? Well, when I do step back and look at it, I _do _like my privacy. Also, not having Cyrus breathing down my neck every minute of the day is a definite plus. This house was also _very_ nice, when you looked at it from an ignorant view.

"Well, might as well explore." I said out loud to myself.

For the next 30 minutes or so, I walked around the different halls and corridors of the translucent building. I also had a note pad in my hand, drawing a half-assed map for my own personal reference. I guess the most important things on it so far were the locations of most of the bathrooms.

It was only 5:00, and I flopped myself down on one of the plush beds, wondering what to do till 10:30 when I usually went to sleep.

_'….plenty of quiet solitude for you to build _my_ machine in_,' Cyrus' words echoed in my head,

"All of the pieces are in the basement…" I finished his sentence out loud.

I started to break out in a cold sweat, remembering _what else _was in the basement…

"Oh shit…" I wiped my forehead with the back of my right hand and sighed,

'I should probably wash up before I get started, it will make me feel a little better hopefully.' Shivers went through my body once my bare feet touched the cold glass floor. I walked to a bathroom and looked in the mirror. Just being around this project has turned me into a shell of my former self. My once shiny, shoulder-length brown hair was now dull, and well past my shoulders. The stress and fear had caused my skin to turn paler than it already was which I thought was impossible since I was already as white as a porcelain doll. My cheeks have also become more sunken in, and there were dark bags underneath my brown eyes. I was only 26, yet I looked as if I aged 10 years in only a few months.

I took a deep breath as I stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over my skin that still had goosebumps all over. Either Cyrus knew for a while that he was going to trap me here, or he was just a considerate guy (which I doubt) because there were already all of the basic amenities that you would find in a regular bathroom. There was shampoo and conditioner, soap, even a new toothbrush and toothpaste! He might be a bastard, but he was quite the thoughtful bastard.

Once I got out of the shower, I changed back into my clothing; just a simple pair of dark jeans and a grey knitted sweater with a black tank top underneath. My outfit wasn't too dirty since I had only worn it today.

I looked again at myself in the mirror, glad that I looked a little healthier and refreshed. To my right, I noticed a pair of clear glasses sitting on a table next to the sink.

"Spectral viewers?" They were used by most of the staff to see the spirits and hidden barrier spells, but I didn't exactly want to use them yet, so I just slipped them into a pocket in my sweater.

"Well…I suppose I have to go down there eventually…" I walked to a stairwell leading downstairs, and peeked down hesitantly. I knew there was no one down there…who was alive or free…so I shouldn't have been as scared as I was.

My steps echoed as I descended the stairs, and once I reached the bottom, I looked down the hallways that were on my left and my right. I had no idea where the main machine room was, so I decided to go right, just to be safe.

The hallways were lit with weird, almost florescent lighting, and it was starting to give me a headache. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to relieve the pressure.

I leaned my head against the wall, but when I opened my eyes, I almost jumped out of my skin; I was face to face with The Hammer.

I've never been this close before; I could see every spike, every iron nail, and every scar on his body. I fell back in fright and disgust, and then I stormed down the hallway with my eyes closed. That probably wasn't a good idea though, because only after a few moments, I ran straight into another wall. I groaned and opened my eyes, and some sense of relief went through me when I saw that it was the Machine control room. Once I made it inside, I collapsed on the nearest chair.

I wasn't necessarily scared, I was more surprised. I felt the pocket in my sweater and realized that the glasses were still in there. How in the world could I see him without them on? Could I... see all of them without the glasses? I was scared because there was a little piece of me that wanted to go find out…

I sat up in the chair, and my eyes widened in awe at the goliath that was built in front of me. It seemed as though the main mechanism was finished, but it stood completely still. I looked to my right and saw boxes on top of boxes of parts I assumed were from the control panel that Cyrus was making me build. I walked over to the boxes and saw a neatly-folded piece of parchment with a fancy red wax seal. I opened it haphazardly and read the handful of well-written words on the page,

Elizabeth,

You know what to do, so get it done and do not stall.

Sincerely,

Cyrus Kriticos

I rolled my eyes at his brusqueness, and I ripped the paper vigorously into small pieces.

I opened the boxes, seeing that Cyrus had indeed provided me with every piece I would need. All of the gears, levers, etc.

The reason I know so much about this, you see, is because I stayed in Italy abroad for a couple of years with a Latin Historian by the name of Nuncio Lombardi, who was also a "closet astrologer". He didn't reveal this to too many people because in such a highly-catholic area, he would have certainly been cast out of the community. But since I lived with him for such a long period of time, and also for my own interest in astrology, he made me his…apprentice of sorts. I ran errands, helped clean things around his house, etc.; and in exchange, he taught me everything I know about telling the past, present, and future just using the stars and planets.

It was all quite interesting, but then he started explaining to me who the ancient astrologer Basileus was, and about what Nuncio called his "Greatest work". This is where I learned all about The Black Zodiac, and the Oculus Inferno.

Of course, since Nuncio was such an elderly man, he didn't have the strength or the resources to even attempt to create it. But he knew almost all about it; how to build it, how to use it, etc.

As I put together the base of the control panel, I hummed along to an old song by the singer Mama Cass. It helped me concentrate and kept me pretty calm. I locked gears in place, and the clicks and clings were almost as much music as the song in my head was. I heard a knock come from outside of the door and down the hall. I froze in place, but then I remembered that the spirits were all locked up, and I was alone.

In a few hours without any more disturbances, I was down to the last two sets of levers and gears. I had to contort my body to reach where the 12th ghosts' lever connected, and as I did so, I leaned on the one next to it, making the panels activate and the gears start to click. But of course, I failed to notice this because I was so tired.

In about ten minutes, I was finally done for the night.

"Ah, _finally _I'm done." I stood up with a groan and smiled,

"That bed is going to feel _so_ good." I rubbed my eyes and threw my tools one of the near-by chairs. The hallway I walked out into had a strange air to it, but I brushed it off and continued to try to find the staircase to the upper level.

I started humming again, but my heart rose to my throat when I heard the clacking of buckles against the walls and floors behind me. I swallowed my fear and quickly turned around-

But nothing was there.

I looked around with a growing sense of panic, but when I turned back to the way I was going, my soul could have ran out of my body like in those old cartoons.

I was staring into the face of The Jackal, and he wore a smile that was far beyond animalistic. I couldn't scream, because I was frozen in fear. Lucky for me, my senses seemed to return once he made one movement towards me. I darted down the hall away from the ghost, trying to remember where the machine room was. Once the doorway was in sight, I ran in, and then slid through the doorway to press the button that closed the glass door.

The Jackal ran at the doorway and slammed his clawed fist into the glass. I sat up, leaning on my elbows, my eyes wide in terror.

"How in the burning holes of Hell did he get out!?" I yelled out loud to myself. I glanced back at the control panel, and saw that his lever was pushed down, opening his containment cube.

"….Fuck…." I couldn't believe I made such a horrible mistake! I looked back at The Jackal and saw that he was no longer attacking the door, but crouching down, staring at me with no emotion visible on his face. My skin crawled as I felt his eyes wander over my body, and I started to feel sick to my stomach.

As I stood up, I didn't dare take my eyes off of The Jackal, and I spoke as if talking to a rabid dog,

"O-okay…go…go away….erm..please…go away.." my voice shook, and I knew my words obviously wouldn't help me in anyway except maybe making him mad. I ran a hand through my hair, and let out a stressed and shaky sigh. I had to get some sleep...but how could I with that thing- I mean, _person_ watching me?

I looked around, and decided to pull one of the couches to the front of the room facing the door. I curled up on it, making sure not to take my eyes off of him for more than a few minutes.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes, sleep taking over my entire being. The Jackal was still just staring, but now he was sitting on the ground in front of the door. I had a feeling he couldn't hurt me right now, so I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. In a matter of moments, the grace of sleep destroyed any fears from the night.


	4. Chapter 3: Time Twist

Hello Everyone!

This chapter is kinda short cause I felt bad for taking so long to upload a new chapter.

When I was writing this, it actually became more and more difficult as I went on.

The thing was, I was dumb and didn't check my info, and I mixed up Ryan's birthday with his deathday (which isn't even saidn). So at first I thought it was sort of industrial england, but then I realized my mistake and corrected it by putting the date in 1919, so that he would be 31. Then I had to change it to kind of reflect the era, which was the end of WWI! Hahaha I am REALLY glad I checked everything before continuing to write.

But I'm enjoying this part, so I'm happy to work hard for something I love!

By the way, THANK YOU SOOO MUCH to everyone that's faved, and followed, and reviewed my story! I love you all so much! You guys are the reason I keep writing!

So I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and the next one shall be up real soon!

Cheers!

Callie (Crazy but Happy)

By the way, I'm not sure if I'm right about this or not, but I _think_ that Ryan actually speaks 44:22 into the movie, around the time when Bobby crashes right before he sees his mom, and you hear all of the ghosts through his recorder. It's right between the two parts of The Jackal's laugh. Like I said, I'm not sure exactly, but it's a pretty fun thing to try to figure out!

* * *

When I woke up, I felt as if I had been sleeping for days. My eyelids were heavy from fatigue, but I shook my head, trying my hardest to open them up. After I did, though, I wished as though I hadn't.

All around me was grey and grimy cobblestone streets, and old brick buildings; I was no longer in my glass prison I had previously fallen asleep in. Rain came down in a slow sleet, acting as sluggish as I felt right now. But my surroundings weren't the only thing that had changed; I was also no longer wearing a grey sweater and jeans, but an old-fashioned fitted black dress. The dress seemed to be made out of black lace and mesh, with a black shawl underneath that. It had very little frill, the only frill being on the bottom seams of the dress. Though I was shocked by all of these changes, this dress wasn't that bad.

With shaky steps, thanks to my new brown heeled boots, I started walking down the alleyway, hoping to find some person who could help me. In a few minutes, I made it to what looked like the center of town, or at least a main market area. There were venders lining the streets, selling everything from half-rotted fruit, to beautiful flowers and fabric.

There were quite a few people around, but all of them looked as gloomy as the weather was. I decided to approach a kind-looking older woman to hopefully figure out where (and when) I was.

"Um, excuse me ma'am?" The woman turned and smiled softly,

"Ello miss, wha' can I do for ya?" She spoke with a very strong English accent, and I had to force myself not to giggle at the sheer cliché tone.

"Yes, do you know where we are?" She looked at me with a strange look for a moment, then chuckled,

"Yes, we're in East Bristol." My eyes widened for a second, and I tried to hide my surprise. It took me a moment to gather my thoughts, but I just nodded and thanked the woman, then walked into the nearest pub.

It wasn't loud inside the pub, most of the people were at the bar drinking a pint in silence as they read the daily post, or were quietly talking to one another.

I walked up to the counter and sat on the tall barstool, picking up a newspaper and looking at the headline: THE GREAT WAR COMING TO AN END.

The date: November 10th, 1918.

I let out a gasp that was louder than I realized.

"World War One…It's the end of World War One..." I looked around, observing the dreary décor and even drearier people, until a man walked up and sat on the barstool to my right. He had hair that was as black as night, and went to just above his shoulder. Instead of it being neat and sharp like most of the men I have seen here, his hair had locks that just stuck out like thorns on a rose. It gave him an air of…edginess.

He looked over and smiled at me, his hazel stare lingering on my face longer than strangers should. Then he motioned to the paper,

"May I borrow that?" He spoke with a casual English accent, and he sounded like the workers I've seen in the old WWI movies. I nodded, smiling a bit, and handed him the paper.

Without even glancing at the front page headline, he opened it up to the last page. When he read through it, I saw a smirk appear not on his mouth, but in his eyes. I leaned over as much as I could without hopefully being noticed, and saw that it was the obituaries and local crimes.

"They found another girl's body in the alley next to Willow Drive." I jumped back a bit, and my faced turned red from being caught eavesdropping. I looked back at him, and he was looking at me with an amused expression.

"You okay there?" I let out a chuckle and nodded.

"I'm sorry, so what were you saying?" I asked softly. He put the paper down on the counter and pointed at the article: GIRL FOUND DEAD IN WILLOW DRIVE, 7TH BODY IN THE PAST TWO MONTHS.

"That's horrible…Do they have any idea who the murderer is?" the man was quiet for a moment, as if he was thinking about how to answer,

"…No, I do not believe that the Scottish Yard has any leads yet." He looked up at me and smiled,

"I'm sure they'll find something eventually; the men in the Scottish Yard know what they're doing." As he took a sip from a pint that I didn't notice till now, I fiddled with the sleeve of my new dress.

"May I ask your name?" When I spoke, my voice sounded much more ladylike than usual.

He took another sip from his glass and smiled softly,

"How about we take a walk, I prefer holding conversations with an attractive girl outside, rather than in a shoddy pub." I felt my face grow warm, and my stomach twisted into knots; remember when your mother told you not to go with strangers? Well…since this…_couldn't possibly_ be real, there was no _real_ harm…right?

The man stepped off of the stool, and held out a hand for me. I took it; hesitation in my stomach, and also apparent in my actions. I stepped off the stool, and then we proceeded to walk out of the pub.

There were no longer any clouds in the sky, and you could see the stars and the moon. Sadly, the lights of the city dimmed the sky to just a handful of sparks.

He looked over at me and smiled, then wrapped his arm around my waist; but his hand held tight onto me, as if he was scared I was going to…run away…

"Oh, and you wanted to know my name?" I forced a pleasant smile to my face and nodded quickly, my mouth going dry. We turned down into an alleyway, and I realized that no one else was around.

"You may call me Ryan."


End file.
